In a World Without You
by Jini
Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't. Tim/Kon. Rated M for mature content. COMPLETE!
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: This was written as a request from someone on tumblr, but like always... I took the prompt and exploded it into this massive, complicated storyline. If it wasn't obvious from the summary, this fic takes place some time after Kon's death… so yeah, you know how that goes. Honestly, this is the most angsty things I've ever written. I don't know why I do this to myself.

Anyway, enjoy~

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><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Part 1  
><strong>

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><p>By the time Tim got to his room, he was tired. More than tired actually. He was <em>exhausted<em>. Exhausted and disappointed.

His 45th attempt at the cloning process proved to be, once again, unsuccessful, but like always he couldn't bring himself to stop. As soon as the computer was able, he quickly punched in the restart button and felt his hope rise as the simulation stated a 46th attempt was now in progress.

He was more than aware that what he was trying to do was insane and probably impossible—and there was no way anything he could possibly create would ever amount to the real Kon. He knew he could never ever replace the one he lost.

But… he just couldn't live in a world without Kon in it. This new 'Kon' would be enough. At least, enough for Tim to feel like he was whole again. One way or another, he was getting his best friend back. Even if he had to try a million times.

Tim fell against the mattress of his bed and shut his eyes. And just like that, he was seeing Kon again. Hear his laugh. See his smile. The blueness of his eyes. The scent of grass and sun and wind. And skin and lips that felt like fire when they touched Tim's.

_Tim… _

"Kon…" Tim murmured, falling asleep to the ghost of fingers brushing over his hair.

000

Tim began to shake as the glow of red lights blinked the words right back at him:

**87th Cloning Attempt: Fail.**

"Computer," he prompted through his teeth, "begin Cloning Attempt Number 88."

**"Cloning Attempt #88 now in progress**_**," **_the computer relayed instantly.

"C'mon," Tim muttered. In the back of his mind he can hear Kon whispering something to him again, his voice so close, but till so far. Tim squeezed his hands together. "_C'mon_."

000

"Hey, Tim," said Kon as they sat on the roof of the Tower, "do you think we'd still be friends if we weren't superheroes? You know… like regular people?"

Tim raised an eyebrow at him. "What brought this up all of a sudden?" he asked.

Kon shrugged. "I guess it was something I heard Raven mention to Cassie once. About meeting certain people in your life, no matter what destinies we had."

"You know I'm not much of a Houdini when it comes to things like fate," said Tim wearily.

"I know," said Kon and looked at the sky, where the stars were twinkling one by one. "I was just … curious, that's all. I mean…" He shrugged again, as if trying to appear nonchalant about it, "I think it'd just _suck _if I never got to meet you."

Tim felt his face begin to heat up and his heart start to pick up speed. He quickly tipped his head back and stared at the sky as well.

"Well, if we weren't superheroes and just regular people," he found himself saying, "I think we'd be as we are now."

He felt, rather than saw, Kon grin at him. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said, playfully nudging Tim's shoulder. "You'd probably still be a pain in the ass though."

Tim shoved his shoulder back. "Speak for yourself," he laughed.

000

**125th Cloning Attempt: Fail.**

"Again, computer," Tim barked, his voice hoarse.

**"Cloning Attempt #126 now in progress**_**,"**_ said the simulation.

Tim sank to the ground and buried his face in his arms, trying to steady himself. His hands were trembling and he could scarcely breathe without his chest physically aching.

_"What are you doing, Tim?" _He heard Kon say in his head again, only this time the voice was louder, almost palpable enough for Tim to_ feel _the consternation that came along with the tone.

Tim gripped his forearms tighter. "I don't know," he admitted. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't even bring himself to do that either. In a smaller voice, he said again, "I really don't know anymore…"

000

"Oh, man, you weren't kidding when you said you had a weak stomach for spicy foods," said Kon as he carried Tim from the house and headed towards the loft at the barn.

"I'm just not used to it, that's all," said Tim weakly.

Kon drifted them over to the pull-out couch and gently deposited Tim there.

"If you get stomachaches like these you didn't have to eat Ma's curry you know…" said Kon softly, looking worried now.

Tim shook his head. "I didn't want to be rude, and anyway, I'm okay," he mumbled, and groaned when he felt a particularly unpleasant stab in his gut.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Kon's shoulder, trying to breathe properly. He was in too much discomfort to care or even think of the consequences his actions might lead to. At this moment, all he could think about was how infinitely better he felt being around Kon.

"Sorry," he said, his voice shaking despite himself, "I… just need to sit down for awhile."

Kon slipped his arm around Tim's waist and pulled him close. "It's alright," he murmured, his cheek on the top of Tim's head. "I don't mind…"

000

**300th Cloning Attempt: Fail.**

"No, no, no, no, no!" Tim cried, staring at the screen with wide, hallow eyes. He was shaking so badly he didn't know if he could stop anymore. He wasn't sure when was the last time he slept or ate, but his reflection on the monitor told him exactly how much of either he'd been lacking… or neglecting.

_"Tim,"_ said Kon's voice in his head, and this time, he sounded worried. Scared. _"Tim, you need to stop this…"_

But he couldn't stop though. He needed… he needed Kon back. It was probably the only thing keeping him from going completely crazy. To stop now would mean… letting go of Kon. And that was something Tim wasn't sure he was capable of doing.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said in a moderately even voice, "Computer, initiate next attempt."

**"Cloning Attempt #301 now in progress," **said the computer.

However, Tim no longer felt himself growing hopeful when the screen began anew.

000

**You have 1 new message: **

_"Tim? It's me. Dick. I know you wanted to be on your own, but please don't be a stranger. You can come home any time you want. I know you can handle yourself, but I'm worried about you. At least give me a call and let me know you're alright. I… I guess I'll talk to you later. See ya, little brother." _

000

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" Tim exploded.

"Well, it worked didn't it?" Kon snapped right back. "If I didn't take that thing to space, it would have blown half the planet to kingdom come!"

"And what about you?" Tim shouted, glaring heatedly at him. "Did you ever stop and think what could have happened to _you _if you hadn't gotten away in time?"

"I would have done my fucking job, that's what!" Kon said angrily. They were nose to nose at this point, but neither one of them was willing to back down first. "I'm a superhero, Tim. Saving the world one catastrophe at a time—it's what I _do_!"

"This is why you're a goddamn idiot!" Tim snapped, shoving Kon back. "You just blaze in, half-cocked, without even a plan—this isn't a fucking game—"

"I know that!" Kon shouted back, pushing into Tim's space again. "Look, I know what I did was reckless and dumb—" Tim scowled at the evident understatement of those words, "but considering the circumstances, I only acted out what I thought was best for everybody else!"

Tim's scowl deepened. "Oh, yes, like that makes everything better," he said sarcastically. "Go and prance around, be a _hero_—forget the fact that maybe by acting like a stupid martyr you'll be leaving your family and your friends behind! Ugh. I can't stand being around you right now, Kon, I'm going to—"

"Oh, my God, Tim, you stupid, annoying jackass, just shut up!" Kon groaned.

Before Tim could retaliate with something equally as biting, Kon was grabbing him by the scruffs of his uniform and yanking him in for a hard kiss.

And because he was still angry, frustrated and downright homicidal, Tim threw his arms around Kon's neck and responded in kind.

000

**678th Cloning Attempt: Fail.**

"Again!" Tim shouted. "Again, again, again, again!"

**"Cloning Attempt #679 now in progress."**

That night, Tim took out all the brandy in his cupboard and drank himself until he could no longer see straight.

_"Tim… what are you doing to yourself?" _said Kon's voice as Tim drifted off into oblivion.

000

All was quiet in the room, save for the creek of the mattress and the muffled sounds of moans and sighs from the bed.

Tim was on his back, his arms and legs wrapped around Kon who was thrusting his hips into Tim in a harsh and untimely rhythm; speed and ferocity increasing as seconds ticked on. Sweat was dripping from the tips of Kon's hair, his mouth was set in a thin, determined line as he watched Tim fall apart underneath him.

"Oh, god, don't stop. Don't stop," Tim begged, arching his neck back as he clung onto Kon fiercely.

"Shit, Tim… You have no idea… no idea what you do to me, do you?" Kon groaned, snapping his hips against Tim's more sharply. He was gripping the blankets so tightly he was starting to leave holes in them.

"Kon, _Kon_," Tim sobbed, feeling the first pinpricks of his orgasm. "Kon, _please_…"

"Don't worry," Kon murmured, kissing Tim deeply, "I'll take care of you."

And Tim allowed himself to fall.

000

**You have 1 new message: **

_"Tim? It's Dick again. You didn't answer my last message, so I got worried. Just wanted to make sure everything is alright. Please call me back soon, okay?"_

_000_

**1000th Cloning Attempt: Fail.**

Tim fell to his knees, unable to keep himself standing anymore. He was shaking harder than ever, and he could barely suppress the flow of tears that began to rain down from his eyes. He didn't even bother to stop them.

"What am I supposed to do," he gasped, shuddering. He hugged himself and shut his eyes. "Kon, what am I supposed to do?"

Beside him, he felt Kon's presence stronger than ever. _"Tim_,_"_ he said gently, _"it's okay… Tim, it's okay."_

"It's not," Tim replied, his voice small and cold. "It's not going to be okay. It's _never_ going to be okay! I can't… I can't do this…"

_"Tim…" _said Kon.

"Why did you leave, Kon?" Tim was openly sobbing now. He was clutching at his chest, trying to will the pain away, but no matter how many times he tried it just wouldn't leave him. "Why did you have to go and leave _me_?"

_"Tim…" _said Kon sadly. _"You have to let me go… what you're trying to do… it won't bring me back. It won't bring you happiness…"_

But Tim wasn't listening anymore. "You said you'd stay… you promised you'd take care of me!" he screamed, covering his ears. "Just leave me alone! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Just like that, Kon's voice was gone and Tim was, once again, left alone.

000

"I love you," Kon murmured.

It was probably the first time either of them had spoken these words out loud, but it didn't take Tim by surprise nor did he hesitate in giving his own answer.

"I love you too," he said.

Kon's smile was the most beautiful thing Tim had ever seen.

They drifted off to sleep, tucked in each others' arms.

And Tim felt like he was finally home.

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><p>AN: Part 2 will be posted soon.

Feedback would be awesome :)


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: This is actually a short fic. Expect four parts and an epilogue~ Enjoy!

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><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Part 2  
><strong>

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><p><em>"Tim."<em>

He was someplace warm, his cheek against something soft and comfortable; the air and smell around him homey and familiar. The covers were drawn to his waist, and from between shut lashes, he could see the first signs of sunlight seeping through the curtains, where a cool breeze was blowing in from the open window.

For a moment, Tim didn't know where he was. Half-between wakefulness and sleep, he couldn't bring himself to make sure. But he felt like he knew this place, like he'd been here many times before. It felt like home.

Then a strong arm snaked its way around him, tugging him close until he was against something solid, something warm and safe. A light kiss was pressed against his neck, lingering there for a moment, and then another and another, each one rousing Tim more into consciousness.

"Mmmm… five more minutes," Tim said sleepily, too comfortable to move. He shifted closer to the warmth next to him; felt the irrepressible feeling of happiness when the person behind him pulled him tighter against them.

There was a smile against his hair. _"Tim…"_ said a voice in his ear._ "It's time to wake up, Tim…"_

000

Tim's eyes flew open.

"Kon?" he mumbled, still half-asleep and disoriented. He quickly turned beside him, his arm reaching out for that familiar warmth, only to find nothing but empty space.

More awake now, Tim realized where he was.

He was lying on the floor of the laboratory. The comfortable softness and warmth of the bedroom was gone and replaced by damp, cold and stoned floors. Everything was at it should. It was dark save for the glow of the test tubes surrounding him; the morning light was absent, the arms which had once once wrapped him in a cocoon of safety and love had disappeared, and Tim was alone.

He was _alone_.

He felt his chest ache at the remembrance.

The main computer was still on, and from where he was he can see the words **1000th Cloning Attempt: Fail **still blinking back at him on the screen.

Tim felt the ache in his chest expand tenfold. He gritted his teeth and quickly got up off the floor. He felt a little wobbly and discombobulated at first, but found his balance soon enough. He looked back at the screen again, at the words on the monitor and for the first time, was at a loss on what to do next.

"Computer," he started, and then hesitated.

He… couldn't bring himself to start again after all. But he couldn't bring himself not to… do anything either.

_"Tim…_" he heard Kon's voice in his head; heard it loud and clear, as clear as the memory of his lips against his ear and the feel of his arms wrapped around him, and then… gone. Gone again. Faded with merely an echo to haunt him in his wake.

"Computer," he sighed, suddenly feeling more tired than ever, "revert to standby mode."

The simulation instantly processed this request, and Tim, unable to do anything else, walked out the door.

000

**You have 1 new message: **

_"Tim, I'm serious. It's been over two weeks since my last call and I still haven't heard from you! What the heck is going on? Will you pleeease call me back? You're starting to scare the crap out of me."_

000

What was he supposed to now? Tim thought as he wandered back to his apartment, where he stumbled blindly into his bedroom.

The room was still empty, save for a few bags on the floor which still held his clothes. The bed at the far corner was untouched, the sheets still drawn from the lack of use. At the bedside table was the only distinguishable item that'd been successfully unpacked.

It was the picture of him and Kon, from a couple years back. They were standing side-by-side; Kon had his arm over his shoulders and was grinning broadly at the camera. Tim was smiling too, but behind the mask, he knew his eyes had been locked on Kon's face the whole time.

It felt like a life time ago. Tim longed to be there again, with Kon by his side and his arms wrapped around him, shielding him and keeping close; murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and promises of impure delights later.

"What am I supposed to, Kon?" he asked, staring at Kon's face; his eyes glued to that wide smile.

He felt Kon sit down next to him. _"Let me go, Tim…" _

Tim didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

Not for something he wasn't sure he knew how to do.

He kept his eyes trained on that old photograph until he was too tired to stay awake.

000

_"Tim."_

Tim opened his eyes. His vision was hazy at first, but as it cleared, he realized he was lying in a field of grass. The place felt… recognizable, like he'd been here many times before only he couldn't place why that was exactly. Ahead of him were rows upon rows of corn crops that stretched on for miles, as far as the eye could see. And beyond was the sun, high above a cloudless sky, and the summer breeze felt cool to his skin. It felt… peaceful. Like… he belonged here somehow.

"Oh, you're finally awake," said a familiar voice, calling Tim to attention.

Tim followed the sound of the voice and met a pair of deep, blue eyes looking down at him. He blinked. "Kon?" he said.

Kon grinned. "The one and only," he said. "Man… you were out like a light." He chuckled but gave Tim a leer—a look that sent pleasant heat at the base of his stomach. "Not that I completely mind you using me as a pillow… I figured you could make it up to me later."

It was only at this second that Tim realized he'd fallen asleep on Kon's lap. He felt his face heat up instantly and he quickly moved to sit up and get out of the way, but Kon's hands—sure and steady—were on him, keeping him where he was.

"Dude, relax," he said, smoothing his palm over Tim's chest, where Tim could now feel the warmth of his touch spreading through him like wildfire. It was a touch that Tim relax again.

But something was eating away at him. Something … that wasn't quite right.

He frowned, staring up at Kon. "How did I even get here?" he asked.

Kon raised a brow. "You don't remember how you got here?" he said in disbelief.

Tim shook his head. "No… I don't…" he said slowly, glancing towards the sky. "I remember being… somewhere… someplace else… Somewhere sad…" He gripped at Kon's hand and cradled it tightly to him as pieces started to slowly make their way back to him. "I… I was alone, and you… you were gone. You were—"

"That's because I am gone, Tim," said Kon, suddenly standing up and started walking towards the field.

"What?" said Tim, faintly.

"I'm not here, Tim," said Kon, staring ahead. "I was never here. I left you, remember?"

"W-what are you saying, Kon? Kon?" said Tim. Panic and dread began to well up in his chest when Kon didn't answer him. He scrambled to sit up. "Kon, where are you going? Kon? Kon!"

But Kon didn't say anything and kept on walking.

Tim quickly got to his feet and started sprinting towards Kon, who only seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

"Kon, wait!" he shouted, but Kon was already a mere spec in the distance, barely within view anymore. "Kon, don't leave me—not again! Please!"

000

"Kon!" Tim screamed, shooting awake.

He was breathing heavily, his face dripping in sweat, and he shaking violently from head to toe despite the blankets. His arm were out, in mid-stretch, as if trying to grab at something. Or someone.

Tim swallowed and slowly brought his arm back down. In his other hand was the picture frame, which he'd fallen asleep holding. However, there was crack on the glass from having held it too tightly. He placed it back on the nightstand, suddenly feeling nauseous at the sight of it.

_"I'm not here, Tim… I left you remember?"_

Tim fell back against the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"That's right…" he said quietly. "You did…"

000

"Dude, is this seriously all the aftershave you have?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you started using your _own_, I wouldn't keep running out," he retorted, hefting the towel a bit higher on his waist. He wiped the fog that accumulated on the bathroom mirror while he'd been showering.

"Geez… someone's a bit touchy," said Kon, coming up behind him. Tim felt his hands settle at his hips, tugging him against hard, naked flesh. "You need to relax, man…" he said huskily, his mouth moving over Tim's neck and shoulders, sending goosebumps everywhere.

"Kon," he half-protested, half-moaned. "I just showered."

"That's the great thing about showers," said Kon, slowly undoing the towel at his waist and dropping it to the floor by their feet, "you can always have them again."

Tim felt himself giving in before he even knew he was doing it. He whirled around, threw his arms around Kon's neck and yanked him in for a fierce kiss. Kon responded immediately, hoisting him off the floor and onto the bathroom counter, his hands at Tim's legs and rear, urging him closer.

The mirror steamed again almost instantly as they got lost in each other.

000

"Fuck," Tim muttered as he stared down at himself. He was hard.

He pressed a hand over himself, trying to relieve the tension somehow, but all that did was make him even hornier.

_"Tim… god, Tim, you're so—" _

"Fuck," he swore again, shutting his eyes to clear memories of dark corners and rooms, the feel of a hot mouth against his neck and the desperate, frantic jerk of hips that lasted throughout the night.

Tim slipped his hand into his pants and bit down on his tongue, hard, to keep himself from calling out Kon's name as he came.

000

"Hey," said a voice.

Tim looked up from his drink. Standing next to him was a man, who was in in his late teens, early twenties maybe. He looked young despite his size (he was broad on the shoulders with a built chest and arms), with his short, dark hair, tanned face and dark blue eyes that Tim knew had been watching him since the moment he showed up at this joint.

But if Tim was being completely honest with himself he'd say he'd been watching the man too, just as closely.

"Hey," Tim replied, and liked how the man's eyes swirled dark beneath the dim lights of the bar.

The man leaned towards him, and Tim could smell the strong scent of night air, of soap and something else. Normally, Tim didn't appreciate people invading his personal space so abruptly, especially people he hardly knew, but Tim stayed where he was as the man came to whisper something in his ear.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked.

Tim knew he shouldn't. Knew he should decline the offer and stay where he was, but from this angle, from this light, the man looked exactly like…

_"Tim…"_

"Alright," said Tim and followed the man out back.

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><p>AN: Part 3 will probably be posted tomorrow.


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: I thought this would be a 4 part story, but the ending exploded into a monster of a finale so I had to split it in half again lol. Expect five parts now, along with an epilogue.

Well, enjoy!

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><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Part 3**

* * *

><p>"Let's get out of here," said Kon unexpectedly, his eyes staring out the barn window.<p>

"It's the middle of the night, Kon. And you haven't recovered from what happened yet," said Tim, standing up from the sofa and walking to where Kon was standing. "Besides where would we go?"

Kon shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "But let's just go. I'm fine, really," he said when Tim began to look unsure. "Look, I won't exert myself if that's what you're worried about. We could take Pa's truck and just drive for miles… just the two of us." He glanced sideways at Tim, smiling sheepishly. "I know it sounds silly… but I just want to get away from here for a bit. We may never get this chance ever again, and I… I just want to spend it with you. For however long."

Tim slipped his hand into Kon's, intertwining them together; his smile soft.

"I want to be with you too," he said, and felt the squeeze of his fingers as his answer.

000

Tim moaned; the sounds bouncing off the walls and echoing back at him.

His back was digging against the wall of a building in the most painful, uncomfortable way possible, but he couldn't bring himself to care, let alone think straight, at the moment.

The man he left the bar with had pushed him into the corner and was undoing several buttons of his shirt, exposing Tim from the neck down. Tim shivered, but whether it was from the cool night air sweeping past his skin or because the guy seemed to know exactly where each and everyone of Tim's sensitive spots were, Tim wasn't sure. All he knew was, the intimacy, the heat and the desperation, it made him feel… alive again. He wanted more.

"You feel so good," the man said, as he hoisted Tim off the ground and settled him atop a pile of empty boxes.

Tim didn't think twice about wrapping his legs around the man's waist and rutted his hips in that irresistible way that made the man lurch forward and moan. The man's hand journeyed from Tim's chest and down, down, down until they stopped at the garter of his pants, his fingers poised at the zipper.

"Can I?" he murmured from between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and the question made Tim think back to that dark summer's night, cropped fields and a red truck parked miles from the nearest sign of civilization. He remembered a pair of big, warm hands at his waist, dragging his pants down slowly, and the combination of wet and heat coming down between his thighs.

Tim barely heard himself whisper a fainted, "Yes" from somewhere, before his pants and underwear were yanked down to his ankles and his legs were being spread wide apart.

The man was on his knees at once, his big hands tight on Tim's thighs and hips, trying to keep them from jerking too much. His head bobbed up and down as he sucked relentlessly on Tim's cock.

"Oh, fuck," Tim cursed, his hands and fingers digging into the man's neck and shoulders as he tried to move his hips. "Oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_…"

It felt so good. So fucking good.

In the distance, he was back at that open field, with Kon's mouth on him and Tim's hands in his hair, urging him on.

The man's blue eyes looked up at him, gleaming and darkening as they watched Tim fall apart, and the familiarity of it made Tim moan even louder.

_"Tim…" _

"Oh, god, I… I…" Tim shut his eyes as the memories washed over him, along with the pleasure.

Kon was impatiently fumbling for the buttons of his jeans, barely able to get them off before giving up halfway and just fucking into Tim like he couldn't suppress himself anymore.

_"You're mine," _Kon's voice growled in his ear. _"Mine, mine, mine."_ Each possessive word enunciated with every vicious thrust.

"Yours," Tim whispered in agreement, and came; Kon's name falling from his lips before he could stop himself.

000

"Did you _have_ to kiss him?" said Kon, looking irritated.

Tim was filing the last of his research back into the archives and was only half-listening. "Hmm?" he said absently.

Kon's eyes narrowed. "I said: did you _have _to kiss that dude back there?" he said, crossing his arms.

"I was undercover," Tim explained for what felt like the one hundredth time that night. "If I didn't do that, our suspect would have gotten away with murder. Besides, it wasn't real."

"Well, it_ looked_ pretty real from where I was watching," Kon grumbled. "_You_ definitely looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Now it was Tim's turn to look annoyed. "What the hell is your problem, Kon?" he demanded. "Ever since we got back from the station, you've been acting like a total jackass."

Kon scowled. "Problem? I don't have a problem," he said sarcastically. "What sort of problem could I _possibly _have with watching you shove your tongue down some other guy's throat? I don't have a fucking problem, no _siree_."

He turned his back on Tim, who could only blink at Kon in disbelief.

Tim moved around to face Kon, who had his eyes trained at the wall, like he wanted to burn holes in it with his heat vision.

"Kon," he said slowly, "are you… are you_ jealous_?"

He watched as Kon's jaw tensed, and knew right away that he was right on target. Maybe on some other occasion, he would have laughed at the silliness of the situation, but right now, all Tim could feel was his heart beating a million miles per minute.

"Kon," he said, and when Kon still refused to look at him, Tim reached over to cup his face, bringing Kon's eyes back on him. They were weary and tired, as if bracing for the moment when Tim would call him out on his foolishness. Tim did no such thing.

Instead, he took one of Kon's large hands and placed it over his chest.

"What do you feel," he said finally, looking at Kon's face for an answer.

Kon didn't speak for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly in mild confusion, before saying, "Your heart."

Tim nodded. "And what's it doing?" he said.

"Beating," said Kon, frowning as he looked closer at where his hand was resting. "Pretty fast, I might add."

Tim nodded again. "Yes," he said and looked at his feet. "That's how it always gets when I'm around you."

He could feel his cheeks burning and he just knew Kon was openly staring at him now, but he forced himself to go on.

"I… kissed that guy," Tim admitted, stepping towards him, "but it wasn't like how you thought it was." He met Kon's eyes again, determined. "My heart didn't beat like this when I was with him." He took another breath, another step until they were chest to chest; Kon's hand smashed in between them. "It _never _beats that way for anyone else, but… but _you_."

Kon's didn't—couldn't say a word, but his face, his eyes and the formation of his smile on his lips said everything Tim needed to know.

He leaned forward, his forehead touching Tim's, the tips of their noses barely brushing. Kon sighed, content, and Tim closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the thumping of Kon's heart beating steady and loud beneath his palms.

000

When it was over, they both sat there for a long moment, unmoving and trying to catch their breaths. The man pressed his cheek along Tim's pliant legs and smiled up at him.

"That was awesome," he said, nuzzling the tip of his nose against his thigh.

Tim was too spent to say anything just yet, but he brushed the tips of his fingers along the man's cheek, which was all the answer he seemed to need. The man got up off the ground and crowded into Tim's space again, pulling Tim into a tight embrace.

Tim's nose was filled with the man's scent; of spices, wind and a soap Tim didn't recognize. And it was so strange how different it was from a few moment's ago, where Tim could have sworn he smelt exactly like Kon.

"Do you want to go to my place?" the man murmured, pressing a light kiss along the side of Tim's neck, making him sigh and cling tighter because the action was just so _familiar_. "I can make you feel _good_ again…"

His hand wandered back down to Tim's legs. Tim jerked and gasped.

_Yes. Oh god, yes, yes, Kon_, Tim thought desperately.

_"What are you doing, Tim?"_

Tim's heart leapt into his throat as his eyes flew open. He stared out into the dark, long and hard, but couldn't find what he was looking for.

"Kon…" he murmured, starting to shake. Pieces of reality were starting to mold themselves back together; each one making Tim sicker and sicker by the second.

"Kon?" said the man, and it was like the first time Tim noticed he was there. "Who's Kon?"

Tim could not answer. But the longer he stared looking at this man, the more conscious of things Tim became, like the way the guy's hands were big, especially in the way they engulfed Tim's slender and smaller ones, but they did not exude the same warmth… the same fire that always set his skin ablaze with every touch. The man was tall, broad along the shoulders and built around his chest and arms, however, they failed to bring any kind of security or comfort that Tim always felt when he was being held by another.

The man was remarkably handsome and so was his smile, but they did not make Tim's heart pick up speed, did not make him catch his breath, in a way that only Kon's smile could make him come undone. And when the man kissed him, it didn't evoke the same hunger, the same level of desperation in Tim that he knew he could only feel from someone else.

Someone… who was longer here to do all of those things.

This was wrong, Tim thought. The feeling of nausea doubled. This was all wrong. This _man _was wrong. He wasn't… he wasn't…

"C'mon, let's get out of here…" said the man, his hand at Tim's waist and Tim felt his skin crawl in the most unpleasant way.

He jerked back. "I… I can't," he said. And from beneath the street light, Tim could clearly see that this man didn't look anything like Kon at all, save for the eyes. They were the same dark, swirling blue as Kon's, except they never once looked at Tim like Tim meant everything—meant the entire _world—_to him. He did not look at Tim like he loved him.

Now Tim really felt like he was going to be sick.

"This was… I didn't mean… This was a mistake," he said, pulling his clothes back on and backing away. The man didn't say anything and Tim couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "Sorry," he said, because it was the only thing he could say, and ran off into the streets, not once daring to look back.

000

"I love you," said Kon as they lay at the back of the truck, satiated and completely spent. Kon was leaning against his hand, his other running along the length of Tim's arms and his back, just watching him.

Tim looked up and met Kon's eyes, which swirled dark and blue beneath the moonlight, but also with something else, something soft, like wonder… and love. No one had ever looked that way at Tim before, like he was something special. It made Tim stop breathing again.

Still keeping his eyes on him, Kon took one of Tim's hand in his own and kissed the center of his palm in the gentlest, sweetest way that made Tim's heart squeeze so badly he thought he might burst.

"I love you," he said again. "Always have, always will." And Tim knew Kon always meant it.

With his free hand, Tim reached out and swept his fingers along Kon's cheek.

"I love you too," he said, smiling. "Always."

000

Tim leaned into the porcelain bowl and threw up. He was shivering violently now; his face thin and pale. He could barely stop the feeling of disgust and guilt that were threatening to overwhelm him.

_"Tim… I love you…"_

"I'm sorry," he gasped, squeezing his eyes tight. Tears started to pour down from his eyes. "Oh, God, Kon. I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! Kon!"

But he did not hear Kon's voice, not tonight.

"Kon, please," he whispered, curling himself into a ball at the corner of the bathroom. "Kon… I miss you so much. Just… _please_."

Silence.

"Kon, Kon, Kon!" Tim sobbed. "Kon, I'm so sorry. Kon!"

And all throughout the night, Tim heard nothing else but the break of his own tears.


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: Nearing the end soon. One more part left and then an epilogue. Enjoy~

* * *

><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Part 4**

* * *

><p>"Hey, Tim, do you know where the… Tim?" Dick said, his smile slipping almost instantly, at the sight of him. "Hey," he said, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder, "you alright, little brother?"<p>

Tim startled. "Dick," he said, eyes snapping from the Batcave's central computer system towards the older man. "Oh, sorry, I… I got lost in thought for a moment there. So what's up?"

Dick looked at him closely. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" said Tim, trying to keep his voice light.

Dick sighed. "Look, I know you, Tim," he said, placing a hand at his hip (a gesture that said Tim was in for a lecture any minute). "You're more likely to drop your guard down during a fight, much less in the _Batcave_. Now, what's wrong? You're not usually this distracted."

Tim wondered what his chances are if he lied, but Dick was waiting and looking at him expectantly; he had that look on his face that always made Tim (or anybody else for that matter) unable to say no to him. It was frustrating and a blessing.

"Kon and I… we had a fight," admitted Tim finally. He sat down and for once, let himself sag into the armrest of the chair, sighing miserably while he was at it. "It was over something really stupid. I… I said some things I shouldn't have said and now he won't even talk to me anymore." He buried his face in his hands. "I think he hates me."

Dick took the seat next to him. "I'm sure Kon doesn't hate you," he said, and just the way he said it made it sound as if the idea of Kon hating Tim was positively ludicrous.

It made Tim peak out from under his hands. "You really think so?" he said, sounding genuinely worried. "I don't know what I'd do if he never speaks to me again." Just thinking about it made Tim bury his face back in his arms again. "I'm an idiot…"

He knew he sounded pathetic, not to mention it was damn right embarrassing. He was _sulking _about his relationship with Kon—to his _brother _of all people (at least he wasn't having this talk with Bruce. Now that was a mental image Tim could live without), but the past week and a half had been awful.

Ever since their little fight last Friday, Tim hadn't heard from Kon at all—no late texts at 3AM, no surprise visits in the middle of the night or random emails asking how he was doing. Just… nothing.

And if that wasn't disconcerting enough… all his calls went straight to voice mail each time Tim thought of trying his cellphone (or even their communicator), and when he called the farm, Ma or Pa always said Kon had stepped out or had gone to bed (even though Tim _knew_ Kon had no where in particular to go to whenever he was in Smallville, and it didn't seem likely for Kon to go to bed before the stroke of midnight). Besides, Kon _always_ took Tim's call, regardless of when it was or where he was. Always.

Tim had remained at Gotham for a few days, feeling some time apart would cool them both off, but that had been a week ago. It wasn't like Kon to stay this angry at him.

Sure he and Kon have had dozens of heated spats before (some of them even stupider than this one), but it was never as bad that they couldn't make up before the day was over. Kon had once told him he loved it when they fought because the sex was especially aggressive and hot right after.

But… that was before Kon stopped speaking to him.

"I'm sure if you just talk to Kon," said Dick, bringing Tim back to the present again, "you guys can work things out. You're going back to the Tower tonight right?"

"Yeah," said Tim and then hesitated. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me though? What do I do then? What if he ends up hating me after all?"

Dick patted his hair, making a mess of it. "He won't," he assured, smiling. "I've seen the way that kid looks at you and believe me," he said with chuckle, "he couldn't hate you even if he wanted to."

He left Tim feeling a little better about himself.

000

"Kon…" Tim mumbled, opening his eyes.

He was still on the bathroom floor, his face pressed against the tiles. As he sat up, he felt wave of nausea and vertigo hit him instantly, and he quickly braced the edge of the toilet sweat for balance. As soon as he a little better, Tim slowly got to his feet and turned towards the mirror.

His reflection looked back at him tiredly; the hallows of his cheeks even more prominent now, as were the deep shadows beneath his eyes, where the traces of the tears he'd wept the night before could still be seen hanging from his lashes and his pale face.

He could hardly recognize who this person was any more. At some time in the past year and a half, he'd begun looking less and less like Timothy Drake-Wayne and more like a complete stranger.

And Tim knew that the old Tim Drake would never have done what he'd done last night. The memory of the man's scent suddenly flooded his senses, threatening to overwhelm him; Tim could feel his hands and his mouth—so wrong and cold—trailing over every part of him, whispering words into his ear that made Tim feel sick rather than in need.

He remembered how strongly he reacted to that man's touch, how badly he needed to be held and be brought to life. And the delusion he had selfishly created and immersed himself in in order to feel like he was with Kon one more time… it was an insult to Kon and his memory. Tim had taken Kon's feelings for him and abused it in the most disgusting and horrendous way possible.

Tim wanted to be sick. No matter how he looked at it, what he'd done was inexcusable. He couldn't ever take that back. And now… and now, Kon's voice, his presence… had completely disappeared. Tim couldn't feel him anymore. He was _gone_.

"Kon," he whispered, gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Kon, _please_…"

All he received was silence, and Tim felt himself slip further into despair.

"Kon, I'm sorry," he said, starting to shake again. "Kon. Kon, please…"

When he heard nothing, he fell to his knees, unable to keep his weight any longer; the tears were already falling even before he realized he was crying again.

He had to do something, he thought. The desperation, the panic and the turmoil were closing in around him, making it difficult to breathe. He clenched his hand over his chest and squeezed, digging until it hurt.

He _had _to do something. He had to find a way to hear Kon's voice again. He _needed_ to hear it. The longer he was in silence, the crazier Tim went. But what could he do?

His eyes widened. The lab, he thought, as a rush of excitement overcame him. That's right, the lab!

With wobbly legs, Tim managed to get back on his feet again. When he looked at the mirror, his reflection had taken a slightly more manic tinge to it than earlier.

"I'm going to make it right, Kon," he promised. "You'll see."

000

"I thought I might find you up here," said Tim as he spotted Kon sitting on the roof. He didn't turn at Tim's arrival nor did he say anything. It sobered Tim instantly, but he was also a little nervous.

He tried to keep Dick's words of reassurance in his mind, but it was somewhat difficult to feel at ease when Kon was treating him so coldly. He figured he might as well get straight to matter at hand and made his way to where he was. Tim didn't take the seat next to him in case Kon would rather have his space, but felt even more agitated when Kon didn't immediately ask him to sit.

He took a deep breath. "Kon… about last week," he started, fiddling with the folds of his cape nervously, "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." When Kon kept quiet, Tim went on, "I said some things… awful, hurtful things to you that day, and I feel horrible about it… I was angry and wasn't thinking—but that's no excuse…"

He stopped himself. He was babbling, he thought, willing himself to remain calm. He was more articulate than this, but Kon wasn't saying anything. He wasn't even _looking_ at Tim. It made all his fears of Kon hating him that much more tangible. Panic started to rise in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Kon, I really am," he said, not caring if he sounded desperate or pathetic. He just wanted Kon to face him again. "I know I don't deserve it, but I'll do my best to make it up to you. I promise. So please… Please, just say something. Anything."

When Kon still refused to talk, Tim reached into his pocket for his last resort.

"Um, here," he said, placing the envelope beside him. Kon didn't look or pick it up. "Bruce is holding another charity banquet next weekend—and well, I know you're not into these kinds of things, but I-I was hoping you'd come with me?" He looked at Kon hopefully and then sighed when he received yet again nothing in response. "Well… I guess I'll leave you alone." He looked down at his boots and curled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from grabbing Kon and making him looking at him. "I… I really am sorry, Kon. I hope you'll forgive me."

He backed away and turned around, his feet heavier than ever. As he made his way back to the door, Tim could only think of one thing:

Dick was wrong. Kon _did _hate him after all.

000

**You have 1 new message:**

_"That's it, Tim. You haven't returned _**_any _**_of my messages. You don't call, you don't write—I haven't heard from you for over two months. You're scaring everybody here. Look… Tim, if this is about… about Kon, you really shouldn't… Don't think you need to… (sigh) You don't have to always feel like you have to shoulder everything yourself. I'm here too you know? I'm here, Alfred's here, the Teen Titans are here—we're all here for you, Tim. You're not alone. So please… please just call me back. If I don't hear from you soon, I _**_swear _**_I'm coming over to check on you myself, and you _**_better _**_have a good explanation for why you've been worrying the crap out of me. Talk to you soon, little brother." _

000_  
><em>

Tim searched frantically through all the files, all the archives, all the databases he could find in the laboratory in hopes of finding the solution that will bring Kon's voice back to him.

He punched several buttons and the main computer screen flickered once, and blinked bright. As Tim looked up, what he saw made him pause:

**1000th Cloning Attempt: Fail. **

That's right, he thought, staring at the words. He… had failed to bring Kon back this way.

But he could try again, the other part of himself reasoned. He could keep trying and trying and trying. Surely that will make Kon speak to him again. Surely that'll bring back the ghost of his voice.

But… that was the problem, wasn't it? He'd tried to clone Kon. He _knew_ that whatever he made would never amount to the real Kon. Nothing could ever amount to the real Kon, and Tim felt stupid for believing a mere replication would be enough for him, would be enough to abate the deep welling sadness, the loneliness, he felt for losing Kon.

It was the same as with that man. Tim had tried to see something in someone who obviously paled in comparison to the person he really wanted, and in the end, he lost more than himself that night—he'd lost Kon all over again, and this time it was of his own doing.

He couldn't replace Kon. He couldn't replace him _ever_. There was no one else for him. It was either Kon or no one.

"I… I have to destroy this place," he said, realization dawning on him. Then… and only then would Kon come back… right?

He didn't expect an answer, but never the less, he was still disappointed when he received none. He closed his hands into fists, suddenly determined.

He turned back towards the storage room and was delighted when he found a few jugs of gasoline at the back.

"I'll make it up to you, Kon," he said as he uncapped one and started pouring it over the windows, the walls, the desks, "I'll set things right…"


	5. Part 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: And here's the monster finale. The epilogue will be posted either later tonight or tomorrow morning. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Part 5**

* * *

><p>"He could still show up, you know?" said Dick, who, without a doubt, had probably noticed Tim's constantly eye-twitching towards the doorway.<p>

"He wouldn't even look at me, Dick," said Tim, trying not to sound hurt by it, but as the week pressed on and Kon kept avoiding him, Tim knew the inevitable was unavoidable at this point. Kon was going to break up with him sooner or later, and Tim… Tim was ready to accept it. "It's my fault, really," he went on, as he fiddled with the champagne he still had yet to drink. "So I deserve whatever he throws at me."

Dick frowned. "Tim, that's not—" he began, and Tim just knew he was going to say something against that, but at the moment, Tim did not want to hear it. He didn't deserve Dick defending him, not this time.

"We were arguing about… about Bruce. Again," Tim said quietly, staring at his glass. "Kon didn't like it that Bruce still didn't trust him to be alone with me, and I kept trying to tell Kon that he shouldn't take it personally because Bruce doesn't really trust anyone."

Dick was silent as he listened, and Tim took it as a sign to continue, "Then Kon kept accusing Bruce for obviously disapproving of him—that he didn't think Kon was _good enough _for me, and that that was why he wouldn't let him come into the manor or to the Batcave or even invite him to these charity events.

"I was getting upset and angry, and I couldn't stop myself… so I told him… I told him that maybe if he didn't act so reckless or brash all the time then maybe Bruce wouldn't always think he was unreliable or untrustworthy."

He didn't have to look at Dick to know that his brother was probably taken aback by his words; he'd never forget the look on Kon's face when those words had left his mouth.

"And then he asked me if I agreed with Bruce about not deserving me… and if I could choose, who'd I pick between the two of them," said Tim, who wanted to laugh bitterly at himself, but couldn't even muster that. "And I … I couldn't answer him." He placed his glass down and looked at Dick. "So you see why I don't expect him to show up tonight. It's not that he doesn't deserve me, but rather… _I_ don't deserve _him_."

He left Dick by the tables and wandered off into the crowd of nameless people, trying to lose himself in their chatter.

He knew Kon wouldn't be coming tonight, he was sure of it, but that didn't stop Tim from looking at the doorway from time to time, hoping… Kon would just stroll in.

000

The whole place was set ablaze. The walls were beginning to crumble from the flames, the machines were sizzling and smoking, and Tim stood in the middle of it all, breathing hard and sweating under the intense heat.

"I did it, Kon," he said and coughed as the gas and the smoke started to fill his lungs. "I did it!"

His mind was whizzing fast and his eyes were frantically searching for something—anything that remotely resembled Kon's presence. But all he found was fire and smoke and destruction.

"Kon?" he said, sounding unsure now. Louder he called, "Kon!"

He coughed again, harder and longer because the fire was growing more intense. His eyes were starting to sting to the point where he could barely keep them open anymore. But he stayed rooted to where he was, refusing to budge until he heard the whispers of Kon's voice in his ears again.

But he heard nothing. Nothing again. He fell to his hands and knees, the last of his hopes dashed to ashes. It was no use. Kon wasn't going to answer him anymore. Tim wasn't going to his voice ever again.

Tim coughed again into his hands, but mingled with his tears it came out as a wretched sort of sob. His vision was starting to blur the longer he went without oxygen, but he didn't bother to get up from where he was nor did he attempt to find an exit. He… couldn't do it anymore. He just couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Kon. I tried," he said weakly, as the corners of his vision begin to turn dark. "I guess I'll see you soon."

And the thought of seeing Kon again brought some measure of comfort to him as he closed his eyes and waited for the end.

_"Tim!"_

Tim paused. Had… had he heard right? He thought he heard his name, he couldn't tell anymore. Everything was growing darker and darker, the sounds all fuddled.

He peaked open his eyes and saw a figure in the distance, a dark familiar shape, rushing towards him. He couldn't see who it was, but his heart instantly thrilled at the thought of who it might be.

"Kon…" he murmured and then everything went black.

000

"So what do you think?" said the man he was currently talking to.

Well, the man was doing all the talking… Tim was more or less bored with his pointless drivel and not paying attention. All that time he hadn't stopped searching through the crowd in hopes of finding…

"What's the matter?" said the man, frowning.

"I'm sorry," said Tim when he realized what he was doing. "Sorry, I was just…" he looked down at his empty champagne glass, "I guess I had too much to drink tonight. Maybe I'll go—" he tried to make a speedy exit, but the guy had reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Wait," he said quickly, and Tim stared down at their hands and then back at the man. "Look, Mr Drake, I just wanted to say… I-I don't want to seem too forward or rude or anything, but… but…"

The longer this man continued to struggle with his words, the longer he continued to hold Tim's hand and look at Tim with eyes that obviously craved for something more, the more Tim wanted to get away from him.

"What I wanted to say was," said the man, looking at him directly in a way that made Tim nervous, "if you wanted to step out and have a cup of coffee with me or something—"

But before Tim could kindly tell him that they had perfectly fine, exquisite, _free _coffee where they were (courtesy of Wayne Enterprise), someone had already beat him to the punch:

"Sorry, but he's not going anywhere with you."

Tim turned and felt his mouth drop. It was Kon! Except … he didn't look quite like Kon. He was dressed differently; his hair slightly tousled and pushed back from the obvious poor use of gel. The plaid and the S-shirt Tim was used to seeing were all gone and replaced by a slick black tux, which he hadn't bothered to button all the way, and the tie was slightly loose from the collar, as if he'd been constantly tugging at it on the way here.

But… he was _here_, and Tim could hardly believe it.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" asked the man, confused.

Kon didn't answer him; he was too busy looking at their clasped hands to say anything (which Tim had temporarily forgotten about due to his shock), but when Kon's eyes began to narrow and a frown started to take shape along his lips, Tim was quick to draw his hand back. That didn't make Kon look any happier.

"I need to talk to you," he said abruptly, his voice sounding thin and growly.

"But I—"

Kon didn't leave Tim any other option. Grabbing his wrist, he proceeded to drag Tim towards the doorway. As he passed several groups of people, he managed to snag Bruce's attention from the conversation he was having with the mayor (and judging from his own frown, he obviously hadn't been expecting to see Kon here tonight either), but Dick was there, keeping Bruce from coming over to them. When he caught Tim's eye, Dick gave him an encouraging smile and a wink that essentially meant, 'Go ahead. I'll cover for you!'

Tim gave his brother an appreciative smile and allowed Kon to lead him out the door.

It was beginning to rain, but Kon either didn't care for the weather or didn't pay it any mind because he did not let Tim go until they were at the gardens of Wayne Manor; the bounty of shrubs, bushes and flowers hiding them from any passerby.

As soon as they were alone, Kon released him.

"What are you doing here, Kon?" Tim asked quietly, because he still couldn't will himself to believe that he had actually showed up.

Kon gave him a look, his frown deepening. "I got an invite," he said and crossed his arms. "Unless the offer expired and I wasn't aware of it."

Tim shook his head. "No," he said and stared at his hands shyly. "I'm glad you came. I… I was hoping you would to be honest. But why did you come, Kon? A-And dressed like that," he said, pointing at the tux, still in awe.

"I borrowed it from Clark," said Kon stiffly, his cheeks looking a little pink. "And I was trying to make a statement."

"A statement?" repeated Tim, confused.

Kon ran his hand through his hair, making it messier. "Look, I came here tonight so I could come talk to you. I had this whole… speech planned out, what I was going to tell you once I saw you, but then I saw you with that… that _guy _and I totally flipped my shit because I thought…" He stopped himself purposefully so he could breathe evenly.

Tim felt the sudden need to explain himself. "He wasn't anybody," he said quickly. "I wasn't … we weren't…" He stopped too. "It was nothing, honest."

Kon exhaled slowly, but Tim wasn't sure if it was from relief or from something else. He met Tim's eyes. "Look, I came here to talk… so I'd appreciate it if you just… listened, okay?" he said.

Tim hesitated and then nodded. He was filled with dread again. This was it, he thought, digging his nails into his hands until they hurt. This was when Kon told him it was over. Tim closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable and willing himself not to try to convince Kon to change his mind when all was said and done.

I deserve this, Tim thought.

He heard Kon take a deep breath and Tim shut his eyes even tighter.

"I know… I know I'm not the easiest boyfriend—" it was the first time Kon had spoken that word, "—to have. I'm reckless, brash, short-tempered… I tend to shove my foot in my mouth when the situation doesn't call for it. I'm … not as smart as you or Bart, and I know nothing about fancy charities or etiquette…"

Not expecting this, Tim started to open his eyes again.

"I realize how different we are. I know I… lack a lot of things I wish I didn't," he admitted. "I know I'll never be able to drink tea with the… the Queen or someone as prestige as that, or attend expensive dinners or know five different ways how to put on cuffs."

Tim just stared, at a loss for words, but Kon wasn't expecting him to say anything.

"When we had that fight," said Kon quietly, "I took that time to think about our relationship. And it's made me realize a lot of things. Like how you deserve better than me."

Tim's eyes widened. There was so much wrongness in that one sentence.

"To be honest," Kon laughed, "I don't know why you've put up with me for so long. Every time I look at you, I always think to myself… 'Wow, what the hell is someone like _you _doing with an idiot like _me_?' You could do so much better and yet you chose _me_—"

Tim wanted to say something, but he held his tongue, knowing Kon wouldn't want him to interrupt.

"I thought if the time ever came… if you found s-someone else you loved more than me, I'd be okay with it," he admitted. "If I loved you as much as I do, I'd want you to be happy. I thought I'd be okay with letting you go because… because you deserve the _world_. So… like a coward, I distanced myself from you this whole week because I wanted to believe I was making things easier for _myself_," he said, wincing. "But…"

"But?" Tim couldn't help whisper. His heart was thumping so loudly in his ears, he couldn't hear anything else but Kon.

Kon gave him a weary smile. "But I can't," he said. "It just took seeing you with that guy for me to realize… that I _don't_ want anybody else trying to make you happy because… because _I _want to be the one who does that." He took both of Tim's hands in his and squeezed. "I love you, Tim. T-That's it for me. _You're_ it for me. It's either you or no one else. And I know I'm selfish for wanting that, but it's the truth. I'll say it a thousand times if I have to: I love you, I love you, I love you."

Tim felt his breath escape him. He was starting to shake, and it wasn't even cold outside. The rain started to pour more heavily, drenching him through his coat and shirt. Kon's hair was dripping at the tips, the water tracing over the contours of his entire face, but his eyes—that familiar, deep blue that Tim always found himself getting lost looking in—never averted from Tim's.

"I thought you came over here to break up with me," Tim admitted and would have laughed at the genuine look of surprise on Kon's face if he wasn't on the verge of saying something serious. "I was going to let you too," he said softly. "Because if there's anybody who doesn't deserve this, it's me."

"Tim, no—" Tim placed a finger over Kon's lips.

"It's my turn to talk," he said, and smiled when Kon complied. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said. "I mean who else has put up with most of my neurotic shit as much as you have? I'm obsessive, a neat freak, I tend to get a little engrossed in my work, and I know I'm bossy as hell when it comes to the job. I'm pushy, direct and maybe a little on the annoying side, but you love me anyway."

He swallowed and went on.

"And yeah, you're brash, reckless, bad-tempered and an idiot—most of the time all I want to do is throttle you because of how much you drive me crazy—" Kon literally winced and it made Tim smile again, "but you're warm, you're kind, you make me feel safe and loved. You make me go insane, Kon… no one's ever made me feel this strongly or this much before, and every time I look at you it just makes me want you even more."

He took a breath.

"I love you, Kon. I love you," he said. "_You're_ it for _me_. I don't want anyone else. If wanting this as much as you do makes you selfish then so am I." He took a step into Kon's space, saw Kon's face break into a wide, brilliant smile. "I don't care if you're never going to have crumpets with the Queen or know which fork to use to eat the appetizers or if Bruce doesn't ever approve of you…_ I_ love you and _I_ want to be with you."

Kon slipped his arms around Tim's waist and held him close. Tim felt a part of him had come back. He took in the scent of Kon, of the soap and cropped grass mingled together with the rainwater and the cologne that was obviously not his own, and sighed. This was where he belonged. Right here. It made his eyes sting.

Tim laughed as Kon all but lifted him into his arms, his feet dangling off the ground. He leaned down and met Kon halfway for a kiss; he didn't even care if they were cold and wet and probably smelt and tasted of rain, because all the mattered in this instance was _this_. Only this.

"Dude, we are _so_ having a lot make-up sex after this because I fucking _missed _you, man," said Kon between kisses.

Tim could only manage a strangled laugh from somewhere deep in his throat because the rest of his words were drowned out by the sound of his tears. He encircled his arms and hands around Kon's neck and shoulders, shaking hard; his hands weaved through damp locks, trying to hold the other as tight as possible.

Kon just pulled him closer, whispering something in his ear that Tim couldn't hear, but he thought it sounded a lot like … love.

000

_"Tim… wake up, Tim."_

"Kon…" Tim murmured, opening his eyes weakly.

The first thing he noticed as he slowly regained consciousness was how much pain he was in. His body _hurt_, but no more than his chest. Breathing was physically excruciating. Every gulp of air Tim took made him wince and wheeze and struggle for breath again. He wondered if he died somehow, but he knew dying probably didn't hurt nearly as it much as it was to live.

But that's when he noticed the other things. He was _alive_. The burning remains of the laboratory were gone, as were the shattered computer screens and the blazing corners of every wall and floor surrounding him.

He was lying on a large bed with duvet covers drawn to his neck and downed pillows fluffed at every angle where his head lay.

Slightly more awake now, Tim realized he was at the Wayne mansion. How he got here… he didn't know. He glanced down at himself; from his neck down he was wrapped heavily in bandages. Next to him, he saw that he was hooked up to an IV.

"You're awake," said a voice, and Tim's eyes snapped to the doorway. He knew that voice, he thought and something in the back of his mind came flaring out.

_"Tim!"_

"Dick," he said as the figure came closer to the edge of the bed. Tim hadn't seen his brother in so long. He took in Dick's appearance, from his dark hair, his handsome face and the worried frown he was unable to hide. "It was you," said Tim, and it's the first time heard his own voice; it was a hoarse, whispery tone that couldn't get any higher than that. As Dick took a seat beside him, Tim said, still in disbelief, "You're the one who got me out."

"Almost didn't make it too," said Dick quietly. "Tim, what the hell were you thinking? I… I know I promised Alfred I wouldn't overwhelm you with questions until you fully recovered, but Tim… you almost _died_. If I hadn't come in time, you would have…" he trailed off, unable to go on from the emotions wrecking him from within.

It made Tim feel immensely guilty. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking at his bandage hands, where he can see the small residues of burns beneath what couldn't be covered.

"What were you thinking, Tim? If things were this bad, you should have called," said Dick. "You should have come home. I'd have—" he stopped when he saw that Tim was crying. "Tim? Hey, Tim… what's—"

"I'm sorry," Tim chanted into his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

He felt Dick place his hands on his shoulders. "Tim, it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" said Tim, pulling away. "It's not okay. I… did things, Dick. I did a lot of things I shouldn't have. Things I can't ever take back. But I just wanted to see Kon again. Just once. I… I wanted to hear his voice one more time. That's all." He was openly sobbing into his hands now, the tears just wouldn't stop now that they've started.

And suddenly, Tim was engulfed in strong arms; arms that held him tight and spoke of safety and love.

"It's okay," murmured Dick, patting his hair. "It's okay. I'm here, Tim. I'm _here_."

And Tim broke again. He pressed his face into Dick's chest and screamed. Just screamed and screamed until his voice went raw again. He didn't care if he broke his voice by doing this. He didn't care if he tore the house down or cried in Dick's shirt until he ran out of tears. He just wanted to break free. He just wanted the hurt to stop, to go away, but it wouldn't. It wouldn't leave him.

"I miss him. I miss him so much," he whispered.

"I know," said Dick softly, holding him closer. "I know."

000

_"Tim…" _

Tim opened his eyes.

He was standing in an empty room with no doors or windows; it was was a simple stretch of four white walls and nothing else.

_"Tim…"_

He felt someone come up behind him. Tim didn't immediately turn around, but felt the ghost of warm lips against his skin, touching him, just once, and Tim knew right away who it was.

"Kon," he said, his heart leaping into his throat.

He instantly threw his arms around Kon's waist and pressed his face into the front of his shirt, inhaling the scent of sun and open fields and everything _Kon_—everything he loved and missed rolled into one. He felt Kon's arms wound their way around him, felt the warmth of his embrace seep into Tim's flesh, making him feel alive.

"You're here…" said Tim, feeling his eyes sting. "You're really, really here…"

_"Tim,"_ said Kon quietly, rubbing his back and it felt so good… so amazing.

"I miss you… I miss you so much," said Tim, his shoulders shaking. Kon squeezed him tighter.

_"I miss you too," _said Kon, kissing the top of his head. He was quiet for a moment, before he said, _"I'm sorry I left you, Tim."_

Tim looked up at him, startled, but he couldn't see Kon's face. It was like he was staring up at the sun. He couldn't do it for too long without feeling the need to shut his eyes.

"It's not your fault," he said, shaking his head. "I… I'm the one who couldn't deal with you gone. The fault is mine, not yours."

Kon held him closer. _"I'm still sorry,"_ he said.

"I know," said Tim, closing his eyes. He was suddenly feeling tired again. It was getting difficult to open his eyes. Despite himself, he yawned. "I'm tired, Kon…"

_"Then you should rest,"_ was the reply. Tim felt himself being lifted off the floor by a pair of strong arms, arms Tim knew would never drop him or ever hurt him, and carried over until his back hit something soft. The texture of feather-down beneath his fingers tips. He briefly wondered how a bed ended up in here.

But he stopped wondering all together when he felt Kon stand up.

"Wait!" he said, reaching out to grab his hand. "Don't go. Not yet," he pleaded. "Just stay with me for a little while. Please."

He thought he saw Kon smile. _"Of course,"_ he said.

"Really?" said Tim hopefully. "You'll really stay with me?"

_"For as long as you want,_" said Kon, taking a seat on the bed again.

Tim couldn't quite muster the words 'Stay with me forever', but he knew that's what he wanted. He intertwined his fingers with Kon's.

"If I open my eyes, you promise you'll still be there?" he asked, as he began to feel drowsiness take over him again.

_"I promise,"_ said Kon and Tim sighed in relief. He closed his eyes again, already losing his consciousness. But not before he felt the press of lips against his hair and Kon's voice in his ear, whispering, _"Wait for me, Tim. Wait for me."_

Tim smiled and fell asleep.

_"I'll be there soon."_


	6. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything DCU-related.

Summary: After Kon's death, Tim copes in the only way he knows how: ... he doesn't.

Rated M for dark themes, lots of angst, mentions of character death, language, psychological/emotional unbalances and mature sexual content.

Author's Notes: And we're finally at the end! :)

Special thanks goes to **Connie** (who has been with me through every bitch/moan/tear of mine since I started this), **Julie** (who's been a constant inspiration and kept me company while I wrote the last of this fic) and of course **Hayleyfails** for making this all possible. Thank you to everyone else who've stuck with me since the beginning, provided comfort when needed and gave me so many wonderful encouragements. You guys are amazing and I only got this far because of you 

Well, without further ado, enjoy the last chapter! **  
><strong>

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><p><strong>In a World Without You<strong>

**Epilogue**

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><p><em>One year later… <em>

"What are we doing here in Smallville, Dick?" said Tim, starting to notice the familiar crop fields as they sped along the main road. They were using one of Bruce's twenty or so Ferrari's; the top was down, letting the warm, summer breeze blow through Tim's hair and face.

It'd been so long since he'd been here. Looking at this place filled Tim with a strong sense of nostalgia and sweet memories that still made him ache inside even after a year of getting used to the way things were.

He still thought of Kon, still heard traces of his voice in the back of his mind—he didn't think he'd ever stop thinking about him or missing him so much, but he was getting better. Each day, he got out of bed, looked out the window and told himself he was going to keep walking forward… because it was something Kon would have wanted.

He still had nightmares, he still shot awake in the middle of the night screaming Kon's name, and he'd still cry himself hoarse when he realized Kon was still gone… but thanks to his brother (mostly to his brother), his friends, heck even Bruce had returned and was helping Tim along, Tim _was _recovering. He was getting _better_.

"And we're dressed down too," said Tim, staring down at himself. He was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and beside him, Dick was dressed casually in a golf shirt and a pair of cargo pants; his shades pulled down over his eyes.

He gave Tim a grin and patted his hair down, despite the wind already messing it up.

"Just thought we'd pay the Kents a visit, that's all," he said, but Tim thought maybe Dick was hiding something. "Besides," he went on, turning his eyes back on the road, "I'm sure they missed you."

Tim felt himself smile and didn't say anymore as they kept driving.

000

"Ah, Dick, Tim! What a pleasant surprise!" said Jonathan Kent at the doorway. He extended his hand out to Dick. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Yes, sir," said Dick, smiling. He took Pa's hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Tim," said Pa, turning to Tim, his smile and his eyes softening as they landed on him. There was something in his expression that told Tim he understood. That he could see everything clearly and it was unnecessary for Tim to explain or say anything because he _knew _and understood perfectly all the things Tim could never ever say. "Hello, son," he said, extending his hand out to Tim. "Long time no see."

Tim took his hand and shook it, feeling something in him choke, but he willed himself to keep it together.

"Yes it has," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

Pa covered his hand with his other one, giving Tim's a big squeeze. "No need for apologies. Just know you are welcome here at the farm whenever you like," he said. "Now, why don't you two come in for lunch? Ma is cooking up something special today."

As they walked in, Pa shouted up the steps.

"Martha, we have company!" he said.

Ma came out of the kitchen, donned in an apron. "Dick. Tim, so glad you guys could make it," she said at once upon seeing them.

She was tiny when she moved to hug Dick, but her eyes were on Tim, and like Pa, she had an expression on her face that told Tim she knew more than she let on. Tim felt the strangled feeling in his chest increase tenfold as Ma enveloped him in a gentle hug. It reminded him of his mother, so long ago. He couldn't remember much of her, but he knew the feeling of Ma's arms wrapped around him, her fingers smoothing over Tim's hair and back, were similar. Because he couldn't help it, he held her a bit longer.

When he finally pulled away, his vision was a bit hazy, as was Ma's.

"I made yours and Kon's favorite today," she told him secretly. "I figured today was going to be a special day."

Tim was somewhat confused but nodded regardless. He suddenly felt a tug on his sleeve and a soft whine. He looked down.

"Krypto," he said and the super-dog barked, his tail wagging gleefully. Tim bent down and scratched him along the ear. Krypto's tail wagged even faster. He crowded into Tim's space and started licking him. "Haha I missed you too, boy. Now, down! Down!" said Tim, trying to push the dog down, but it was strong and wouldn't budge. "Krypto, quit it!"

Pa chuckled. "Why don't you take him for a walk, Tim?" he suggested. "It's been awhile since Krypto stretched his legs."

"That poor thing's been cooped up inside," said Ma, tutting. "Made a mess of the garden again though."

Krypto's ears sagged at the reprimand.

Dick laughed. "Go ahead, Tim. Lunch won't be done for awhile I'm sure," he said, even though Krypto was already taking Tim by his sleeve again and dragging him towards the door.

"But," Tim protested, looking at the three of them.

"It's fine, Tim," Ma reassured him with a smile. "And anyway, it looks like Krypto wants you to go with him."

Tim scratched the back of his head, still confused about something. But Krypto tugged on him again and whined.

"Alright, let's go," he said, rolling his eyes. The dog barked and started licking Tim's face again. "Ack! Down! Okay, okay! I'm coming with you, geez, you damn mutt…"

Tim stepped out of the house, felt the sun warm his skin and the breeze touch his hair. It felt nice. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and simply let himself be. When he opened his eyes again, Krypto was along the road already, looking over his shoulder at Tim.

"Alright, Krypto, what do you want to show me?" he said.

The dog barked and pointed his nose straight ahead, where the road stretched on ahead.

_"We could take Pa's truck and just drive for miles… just the two of us."_

"Alright," said Tim, taking a step. "Lead the way, boy."

000

"Do you think he knows?" said Dick, as he watched his brother disappear down the road.

Ma smiled from the stove. "I think we did a good job with keeping things discrete," she said. "More sugar, sweetie?"

"Oh, yes, please," said Dick as Ma dropped a couple spoons of sugar into his coffee. "Thanks, ma'am."

"Richard Grayson, I thought I specifically told you to call me 'Ma' when you're in my house," Ma scolded gently.

Dick chuckled. "Sorry, Ma, force of habit," he admitted.

"He seems to be doing better," Pa noted. He was also staring out the window.

"Yeah, he's come a long way," said Dick, staring into space.

He remembered Tim when he found him; his pale face, his wiry body, all the burns and scratches on his arms and chest. He remembered Tim crying in his chest, remembered his words, remembered how wretched he sounded when he told Dick how much he missed Kon, and wanted to see him one last time… He'd never seen Tim so broken in his life. It made Dick's heart ache at all the times he's had to hold Tim after the nightmares and the tears. He never wanted his brother to go through that again.

"He'll be fine," said Ma knowingly.

"I know," said Dick, not sounding worried at all. "I know _he'll _always be there to take care of Tim."

As he said this, he saw a streak of black and blue shoot through the sky and into the distance, heading for Tim's direction.

Dick smiled.

Yeah… he had nothing to worry about anymore.

000

"Where the heck are you taking me, Krypto?" said Tim, who had yet to see something other than corn crops. "We've been walking for twenty minutes already. Are you sure you're not just leading me no where?"

"Arrfff," the super-dog replied, looking at Tim like Tim was being unreasonable.

Tim sighed and crossed his arms. "Fine. We'll keep going for another ten minutes, but if nothing changes by that time we are heading back to the farm."

He was pretty sure if Kyrpto knew how to roll his eyes, he would have done so. There was a very insufferable type look on his face. Suddenly, his ears perked and he stood attentive at something in the distance.

"Krypto, what's—hey, Krypto!" Tim called when the dog all but sped in the other direction. Tim started to go after him, knowing it was no use chasing after a dog who could probably break the sound barrier just by running, but Tim ran after him anyway. "Krypto! Ughhh you stupid mutt, where the heck did you run off to?"

He heard Krypto's bark somewhere up ahead and felt relieved when he saw him.

"Oh there you…" Tim stopped, because he realized Krypto wasn't alone. Someone was kneeling next to him, patting him over the head and scratching him along the ears. Maybe the sun was too bright, maybe it was too hot, because Tim thought he was hallucinating.

He recognized the short, dark hair; the tanned, impenetrable skin; the broad shoulders and and built arms—arms that haven't held Tim for a long, long time. He saw the familiar black shirt and the splash of red at the front, and Tim felt his breathing stop all at once.

No. It wasn't possible, he thought faintly. No. It _couldn't _be. Tim was daydreaming again because this… this wasn't real.

He saw the figure got to his feet and make his way towards Tim, Krypto bouncing and barking merrily at his side. And the closer he got, the more tangible the image became.

Tim saw the smile… the smile he saw a thousand times in his dreams. He saw those blue eyes. Blue eyes that still looked at Tim like Tim was the world. He could feel himself start to shake, but for the life of him he couldn't move. He couldn't … he just couldn't…

The figure stopped just a few steps away from Tim. They stood a long moment simply staring at each other wordlessly, until the person opened his mouth and spoke… the first words out of his mouth, like something precious, "Tim."

It was _his_ voice. It was his. He was hearing it again, only this time it was louder and more real than anything Tim had heard in his entire life. And it made Tim's heart beat pick up speed, like it always did when he heard his voice. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't look away. He thought if he did, this image would vanish.

The person took another step closer until they were standing face to face, and Tim could smell him. The scent of sunlight, open fields, wind and that brand of soap Tim loved and could not get enough of. It filled him, overwhelmed his senses.

"Tim," he said again and touched the side of face with gentle, warm fingers which sent a tidal wave of pleasant tingles to run along Tim's entire body. It made him shiver so badly he actually closed his eyes.

However, as soon as he opened them again—just as fast—the person was still standing there. He… he wasn't going anywhere, thought Tim. This was… this was real.

"Kon…" he whispered, and it was the first he ever spoken that name in a year.

Kon smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Tim had ever laid eyes on. Not even his wildest, craziest imaginings could ever replicate the real thing.

"Yeah," he murmured.

"You're… you're…" but Tim couldn't continue. His eyes were beginning to water, clouding his vision.

"I know," said Kon quietly, in understanding. "I'm sorry I left you, Tim. I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you."

But Tim was openly crying now. "You're here. You're really, really here," he gasped, pressing his eyes against his hands, his shoulders shaking so violently he thought he might fall apart.

And suddenly, just like that, Kon was pulling him into his arms and Tim was home again. He was finally home.

He knees buckles under the weight, but it was okay, because Kon had lifted him off the ground and was cradling Tim closely. Tim wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his neck, trying to pull Kon to him, trying to keep him from leaving.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tim," he said against his ear. "Not without you."

And Tim pulled back and saw Kon was crying too. He couldn't help but laugh because he was so, so happy. He leaned their foreheads together and let himself bask in the moment.

"I love you," he murmured, their mouths barely brushing. "Always."

He felt Kon exhale a breath. "I love you," he said. "Always have… always will."

Tim kissed him and it was everything he could ever want and more. It was _Kon_, the warmth of him, the feel of him, enveloping Tim and keeping him safe, making him go insane in the best way possible.

He knew they had a lot to talk about. He knew he was going to have to tell Kon about what happened in the last couple years since he'd been gone. He knew Kon was going to have to explain how he was able to return. And Tim knew he was going to be in state of disbelief for months to come, but he let all of that slide and just let himself get lost in Kon, in his hands and his mouth, in the soft murmurs of love being said against his lips…

And Tim knew he as going to be okay.

They were going to be okay.

Because they had each other.

END.

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><p>AN: Thank you guys for reading!

As always, feedback would be appreciated :)


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